The Unexpected Chance
by Sarcarai
Summary: It wasn't expected. It wasn't even particularly wanted. Yet, Harry still found himself inexplicably in the past, surrounded by faces that he had seen only in faded photographs.  He decides he doesn't care and pursues his own happiness.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even a treacle tart... :(**

**I fully realize that it's short and probably even cliche, but... I kind of like it like this :)**

It was the oddest thing. One moment he was there, avoiding an argument between Ron and Hermione whose bickering had not decreased despite their relationship, and the next. Poof. Gone. The suddenness with which it happened was such that even Ron and Hermione noticed. He was simply gone, and they had no idea as to where or even how. Racing to the quarters given to the returning "eighth" years, Ron scrambled desperately to find the Map. And Harry was not there.

But he was. Only his name appeared suddenly and unnoticed upon a quite different version of the map. But that was the least troubling aspect of his unanticipated relocation. For Harry had been in the middle of bringing to his lips that first luscious, tantalizing bite of exquisiteness known to most as treacle tart but known to him as pure awesome. So, to find himself seated _not_ amongst his bickering friends, _not_ within reach of his reunited girlfriend, and _not_ with even the aroma of a good, fresh treacle tart to satisfy his senses, the fact that he rather suspected the people staring at him slack-jawed were far too familiar looking was enough to ruin an otherwise perfectly good day.

He dropped the fork that was unappetizingly empty. Ignoring the commotion around him, he gazed along the length of the table. He turned to the pudgy boy next to him, noting rather absently that the boy in question bore a startling resemblance to Peter Pettigrew.

"Not a chance of there being treacle tart somewhere around here, eh?" At the boy's dumbfounded silence, Harry sighed. He had, at the pestering of Hermione (not that he would normally refer to it as such but, he was deprived of his dessert and thus felt justified), neglected his favorite dish that he might eat a "full, nutritional meal" before "gorging" himself on "sugary, teeth-rotting desserts". This was rich, he felt, coming from her, considering that she had, at the tender age of twelve, gotten him an absolutely humongous box of chocolate frogs for Christmas. Granted, she had yet to do such a thing again, and today had been no special day, but _still. _In Harry's mind, treacle tart made everyday like Christmas and, considering the distinct lack of happiness in his childhood, he felt that should he wish to overindulge every once in a while, well, by Merlin he ought to be able to! Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, causing the pudgy boy to recoil slightly.

Drawing himself out of his treacle tart deprived state, Harry registered his surroundings. He sighed again, this time following the action with a groan and slumping on the table. As he hit his head repeatedly on the table, he finally listened to the frantic yelling around him. He deduced that the Headmaster was coming his way. Probably with the Elder wand. Just bloody perfect.

"—master! He just- just _appeared_ out of _nowhere_!"

"He seems to be having some sort of fit, sir!"

"Portkey, perhaps?" One tantalizingly familiar voice murmured.

"No, the wards don't allow it. And everybody knows apparation is impossible." Yet again, a vaguely familiar voice spoke.

"Quiet." This voice did not yell, yet it reached to every ear in the room. Furthermore, it was without a doubt familiar to Harry, which he didn't particularly count a good thing. A surprisingly strong hand grasped Harry's shoulder, encouraging him to stand up and turn around. Gasps sounded across the Great Hall as Harry looked full into the face of his dead, aged Headmaster and concluded that today was a very bad day after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimor: Yeah, still no treacle tart. That's a metaphor. It means that I still don't own Harry Potter.**

**Yeah, still short... but I have to say, I love all of you that story alert/favorited/whatever. And to MaeSilverpaws1, thank you so much for your review and everything else, I hope you like this chapter, too. :)**

Yep, definately not a good day, Harry thought, looking around the Headmaster's office sucking on a lemon drop (surprise, right?) and wishing it were his treacle tart. Mmm… treacle tart candies… now why hadn't Honeydukes' come up with that one yet? Maybe Harry would invest if they would. Merlin knew he had enough money. Or did he? He was, after all, apparently nigh 20 years in the past. Well, shit. He was more broke than a house elf asking for wages. No, today was not his day. Hell, this wasn't even his decade, not to mention his own had given him hell for years. Damn that muggle Murphy. Harry was a bit fuzzy on the specifics, but he felt certain that he could blame his sudden change in fortune on the man. Something about... laws… or something...

Voices sounded from the staircase leading to the office. Harry ignored them and focused on Fawkes, as beautiful a creature as ever. Finishing his lemon drop, Harry walked over and began petting Fawkes. Fawkes trilled a song of appreciation. Seeing as phoenixes did have a tendency to burst into flame, he could see how that would make some people wary of standing too close, much less petting one, but Fawkes seemed to quite enjoy the sensation.

The door opened and the voices stopped suddenly. Too suddenly, and Harry looked over, wary. There, in the doorway, was a much younger (20 years younger, his mind supplied) Albus Dumbledore, Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, but both McGonagall and Flitwick seemed fairly shell-shocked.

Making a snap decision, Harry smiled and stepped away from Fawkes, earning the intruders a glare from the bird. Moving forward, Harry extended his hand, greeting them.

"Hello, Professors Dumbledore, Flitwick, McGonagall." He shook each of their hands earnestly. "Now, I realize you don't know me yet, but you will, I assure you. We have, in futures past, been very well acquainted. But I can hardly wait 20 years for any of you to remember me, so I'll introduce myself." He smiled benignly, knowing his next words would shock and possibly condemn him to the funny farm. But, he reasoned, nobody had asked him if he had wished to be torn from his treacle laden future to this war-torn past, and, as no life-threatening, world-ending warnings had been issued to the contrary, he figured: screw paradox and have fun, happy little babies with her.

"My name is Harry James Potter; I was born July 31st, 1980 to Lily and James Potter. My childhood was a depressing one; being an unwanted orphan will do that to you, but then I came to Hogwarts. Which was awesome if you disregard the several attempts on my life by Tom Riddle and his lackeys. I do. But, that's all over now. Or it was, anyways. You see, I managed to defeat Tommy boy just last May, so maybe you understand just how horrible this little trip to the past really is." His eyes grew bright with unshed tears. "And I was _just_ about to bite into the most delicious, wonderful dessert ever created." He sniffed forlornly. "All I want is my treacle tart. Is that so much to ask for?" he wailed. "You take away my mother, my father, my last link to them, and now you take away my treacle tart." He flung himself onto the poufy chair Dumbledore had conjured for him earlier, sobbing dramatically. It was mostly for show, but the truth was, being separated from his dessert in such a manner had been truly cruel and sadistic. The _least_ they could do was to offer him some of his favorite dessert.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Furthermore, I can say with all certainty that I shall never own Harry Potter. 'tis a sad, but undeniable truth. ;)**

Well, he never did get that treacle tart. Considering McGonagall kept fainting and having to be ennervated once it became quite clear the Harry was telling the truth (Harry reckoned that his untimely visit had nearly the same effect on her as the multiple stunner attack at the end of the Umbitch's reign), somehow none of the professors considered his need for treacle tart to be an especially valid one. Harry was actually rather glad they had used veritaserum on him, because he had been much blunter under the influence of the potion than he'd been before. Hence the fainting. And the crying. That part was far less amusing.

Now, they were all seated in a semi-circle, staring at him. Which was irritating. So he stared back. Then, very deliberately, he wiggled his ears. And then his nose, followed by crossing his eyes. He slumped dejectedly in his seat when this did not seem to faze them in the least.

"Look," he said, his voice startling after the silence. "I realize that this is hardly something you're used to dealing with, but, you have to understand. I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Here. Either." He spoke slowly, enunciating each word carefully.

It seemed to finally startle them into action, and they were suddenly discussing what ought best be done with him. Which would have been fine, really, he did understand what a strange situation this was, but they were speaking of it without any input from him. Not cool.

"Hey," he said loudly, "I've got an idea." Their attention turned to him although he noticed that they seemed surprised that he would interrupt them. He continued, "Let's not do any of those things, and I can just, you know, go to classes like normal." He carelessly waved off their protests. "After all, it's not like there was an actual reason behind my sudden- er, shift in time, but who's to say that the shift back won't happen just as suddenly?" He looked at them.

"But what of the possibility of paradox, young man?" Professor McGonagall regarded him as sternly as she ever had in the future. "This is the fate of millions you so cavalierly dismiss."

"Professor," said Harry, raising one hand dramatically to his heart. "You _wound _me." He looked at her earnestly. "If a paradox were going to occur, wouldn't it have already occurred in the future? And I'm here, in person even, to tell you that the future is alright, so is this not something of a moot point?"

Harry wasn't actually sure if this made any sense, but all he really wanted (besides his treacle tart) was a fairly peaceful year, which to him did not regard having cover stories and glamours. He could just see himself hexing everything that moved if he had to go around watching his tongue and avoiding everyone he had ever wanted to meet. Besides, who could say what would happen if he tried to change things?

McGonagall stared at him. Again, he stared back. Finally, she raised a brow and said, "That's the oddest reasoning I've ever heard for disregarding the rules of time-travel, but, then again, you're probably the only time-traveler of this extent that I've ever met."

"To be altogether fair," Harry interrupted, "the rules state that it would be _best _for a time-traveler to avoid him or herself." Harry pointed at the calendar on the wall. "I wasn't even born in 1978. So, I need hardly be on the lookout for myself."

Her eyes narrowed and she turned to Dumbledore. "Albus, what do you think?"

Professor Dumbledore stroked his beard with one hand as he considered Harry thoughtfully.

"He raises an interesting point." Dumbledore said slowly. "In fact, the more I think about it, the more I believe he may well be right." McGonagall gasped and Flitwick squeaked in excited dismay. "I think we should allow him to be himself." Dumbledore looked at Harry. "I must ask that you be discreet in most things, at least in regards to the majority of people you meet. But we will sort you in front of the school, give your name and allow that to be the end of it." His eyes twinkled. "Should you meet anyone you think should know the complete truth, I ask that you send them to me and I shall ensure their secrecy." He smiled sadly. "After all, some of the truths you hold are much better kept than told."

In a rush, it came to Harry that he could meet his parents and see Sirius and Remus again, and, for the first time since his untimely departure from 1998, Harry forgot his desire for treacle tart as it was replaced with a desire stronger and far more deeply ingrained within him. This desire was for a reason far sweeter than treacle tart could ever be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: This is very boring, but I don't own Harry Potter. -.-**

**Thank you Mae Silverpaws2 for the review :) I hope the reduced appearance of treacle tart makes you happy ;) It's mentioned a bit, but only where I felt it couldn't be avoided. I hope this is satisfactory...**

Of course, Harry reasoned, nothing would be easy for him. Harry had spent most of the afternoon in Diagon Alley with Hagrid of all people. It all would have been very déjà-vuish if not for the fact that nobody seemed in awe of him. Which was fine by him; the more people that didn't stumble over themselves in awe, the happier he was.

No, the problem started when dinner time came. Dumbledore introduced him merely as a new student, and, when given his name, the students had gasped, intrigued both by his obvious Potter looks and the link to his name. The stares he received as he walked to where Professor McGonagall stood with the Hat were eerily reminiscent to the stares he had endured at his first sorting. However, the rest was not.

_So, back again are we? _The familiar voice of the Sorting Hat spoke to him._ I see that you convinced me not to put you in Slytherin last time- or is that next time? _The Hat mused thoughtfully. _Hmm, it's a good thing I don't often get time-travelers. You muddle things that are already difficult. _Harry rolled his eyes, an action that, in retrospect, was possibly not the wisest. _Hmph. Not putting you in Slytherin was probably for the best then, but now, well. It's not like it really matters now, is it? _Harry tensed, not sure he cared for the direction this seemed to be taking. Surely the Hat wouldn't put him in Slytherin just to satisfy some strange whim of its own? The Hat cackled (aloud, which was more than a bit disturbing for their audience...), and answered him merrily. _I would actually. I can only imagine the amusement you shall provide me. _A chorus of horrified "no's" rose in Harry's mind. _Now, be sure and visit me every once in a while. I do look forward to hearing about your sojourn in _**SLYTHERIN!**

Harry's first thought was that maybe now was a good time to practice fiendfyre. His second was of _Oh, shit!_ and his third was that at least the Slytherin table had a good bit of treacle tart even if it wasn't the highest thing on his list of priorities just now.

He sighed and made his way to the table that had, in the far distant future, stood as one against him. He sat himself at a part of the table that was, for the most part, utterly deserted. Flicking his fringe back with a careless hand, Harry piled his plate high with food. He was almost halfway through when it dawned upon him that he was being stared at with open malevolence. Not that this was particularly surprising, but he had thought he would at least get the chance to annoy somebody in person before that happened. As it was, he looked up and towards the main part of his new House table to find a thin, pale face framed with oily black hair and black eyes that glittered at him with a strangely _knowing_ irritation.

Harry swallowed the lump of potatoes he had been eating, and numbly picked up his pumpkin juice to wash them down with. It was absolutely impossible to think that Severus Snape had been sent back as well. Of course, if he had (dead and obviously occupying his original teenage body), than how and why were the most prominent questions on Harry's mind.

So distracted was he by the thoughts this conjured, that when the strange form of Snape as a teen dropped with un-teenage grace next to him, well. Harry bloody well shrieked, his nonexistent reputation saved only by the fact that Snape had had the presence of mind to perform a muffliato.

Snape regarded him with flat eyes. "Do you realize that I have been in this absolute hell-hole of a place since waking up in the Hospital Wing two years ago to find that, no, I wasn't dead, but that I had the rather dubious honor of regaining my teenage years?" Snape growled. "Not only have I managed to keep the whole damn thing a secret, but I've had to endure, listen to me Potter! _Endure_, all over again, your father's damnable pranks and that damn mutt's stupid taunting. I say _endure_, Potter, because I could hardly hex them to the extent I wanted, knowing how things _must _turn out, and, seeing them as stupid, idiotic teenagers like the rest of the dunderheads I've had to teach over the years, I, most unfortunately, find myself _pitying_ their loathsome hides simply because I know how they die!" Snape's left eye developed a twitch that drew Harry's horrified fascination. He drew a fortifying breath. "Only to find, _Potter_, that you had somehow managed to land yourself back in time with me, and you BLOODY WELL DIDN'T HAVE THE DECENCY TO KEEP YOU BLOODY TRAP **SHUT**!" He slammed a fist onto the table, glaring at Harry more venomously than he ever had as an adult.

Harry cringed slightly, casting a nervous glance around him to make sure the muffliato continued to be in effect. It was, but that was somehow not very comforting.

"Erm, well, you see-" He didn't get very far before Snape cut him off.

"_No_." Snape snarled. "I don't bloody see."

Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Now see here, Snape. We both had shitty childhoods and I very much appreciate everything you did for me in memory of my mother, but you can at least hear me out. Did it ever occur to you that whatever has the power to send us back like this, might very well be doing so for a reason? And since no world-ending catastrophes have happened yet, I suggest you relax." Harry sniffed disdainfully and turned back to his potatoes. He considered them for a moment and then shrugged, instead heaping his plate with a choice amount of desserts.

"Furthermore," he added around a mouthful of heaven, "Dumbledore agreed that my hypothesis was a valid one, so perhaps you should have approached him yourself and come to the same conclusion." He swallowed and pointed a fork at the former Potions Master who regarded the instrument with some wariness. "You should try to enjoy life this time." Harry turned back to his dessert with relish. "Merlin knows we both deserve it."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I assume it would be easier to write. But I don't, so it isn't.**

Sitting in a dorm that he had blissfully to himself, Harry was not altogether unprepared for Snape's arrival. Snape appeared no less disgruntled by Harry's appearance, but it seemed that he had concluded that his best bet was simply to flow with what he viewed to be rampant insanity.

"We need a plan of action then." He stated.

"What," Harry said, feigning offense. "Not even a _hello_ or_ how do you do_?"

Snape studied him for a moment. "Go to hell." He said finally.

Harry nodded. "Acceptable." Since the pleasantries were over, Harry sat up and propped his chin on his joined hands.

"Well, Potter," Snape drawled, "I'm waiting."

As Snape seemed completely prepared to let Harry do all of the thinking, Harry began outlining the vague plans he hadn't even realized he had been making.

"So, first things first, I think we need to discover just how many horcruxes Tom's managed to make at this point. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but I know it can't be more than five because neither I nor Nagini are horcruxes at this time. Hell, we don't even properly exist."

"Have you considered the fact that you have no outstanding protections against Voldemort anymore? That you are no longer a horcrux and therefore have no special defense against him?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course I've considered it. The point is, it doesn't bloody matter does it? At this point in time, Tommy boy doesn't expect resistance of the sort we'll be attempting. It's this odd thing the Americans have called 'guerilla warfare'. We can call it Project Invisible Mongoose if you want to, but the gist of it is, we attack Tom's most secret defenses, and we do it without revealing who we are. Now," he said, standing up and striding to the desk where he laid out a piece of parchment, "The easiest horcruxes to find and destroy, if they exist at this point, would be the locket, the diadem, and the ring. I'm not sure, but I don't believe the locket has been created at this point, so we can check that one last. The diadem and ring are for sure though, and most likely the diary and the cup are, too, but I've no bloody clue where they are. We'll have to do some good old-fashioned hunting on that point- maybe I should consult Dumbledore." Harry tapped his chin in thought.

Snape seemed stuck on "guerilla warfare" as though the possibility of going after the Dark Lord without him knowing had never occurred to him. Probably, it hadn't, considering that in the first go around he was more or less on the wrong side, and afterwards, well, it simply wasn't viable. But now… his eyes glinted. Had this been a cartoon, his character would have rubbed its hands gleefully whilst smiling somewhat maniacally.

"I know why we were sent back!" he burst out suddenly in a very non-Snapish manner. Startled, Harry looked at him askance, eyes widening further when Snape flushed and tried to shrug it off.

"Did you just-" Harry started to ask.

"No! Just, forget it alright?" Snape attempted to return to his evil Professor persona, but it was slightly more difficult considering he had spent the last two years pretending to be a teenager. He scowled at the impudently grinning Harry. Growling slightly, Snape began, "We've been given a chance that never could have happened in the original timeline. By sending us back- two of the most knowledgeable of the war- we can take steps to prevent it and do so without being noticed or foolhardy." His face began to shine again with teenage enthusiasm. "We can kill the bloody Dark Lord and completely decimate his forces!" While Harry was wondering how he had NOT been saying just that, Snape finished with, "So obviously, we can do what we want without horrible time-rending, world-ending paradoxes occurring!" He smiled, only a little condescendingly, at the slightly off put Potter. "You are a lucky little bastard, aren't you? Even when you're just winging your way through the damn thing, you get it right."

Harry opened his mouth to respond heatedly and closed it suddenly. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he tried to understand what had just happened. He was fairly certain that he had been underestimated, insulted, and complimented- all at the same time. He just wasn't sure how…

Meanwhile, in a separate part of the castle, four boys lay awake, discussing the events of the day.

"So, Prongs," said a young man with long, luxurious black hair as he lounged carelessly on his unkempt bed, "when were you gonna tell us you had a twin?" He raised one finely formed eyebrow as his silver blue eyes sparkled with only a little mischief.

The pudgy boy that Harry had spoken to in the Great Hall when he first appeared, darted watery blue eyes back and forth between the two dark haired boys, making it seem as though the conversation taking place was as riveting as a World Cup Quidditch match. One other, a tawny haired boy who seemed simply weary from some hidden burden, suddenly shut the book he had been perusing.

"Lay off, Sirius," he said, his voice holding a slight air of authority. "You, of all people, know that James doesn't have a twin. Hell, if he did, it'd be you."

The one called Sirius scowled slightly. "C'mon, Moony, you have to admit, it's too much of a coincidence. They look alike, and they have the same last name. It just doesn't happen, mate."

The boy in question scowled from his place on his bed, where he had been laying for the past half hour simply staring at absolutely nothing. "I don't _know_." He said, sitting up in frustration. "I know he's not on the family tree, so- I just- ARGHH!" He flopped back on the bed as he was unable to vent his frustration coherently.

"Hey! Couldn't we do a- a potion or something?" The pudgy boy spoke timidly, but eagerly.

Even as Sirius seemed ready to make some scathing remark, the one called Moony spoke. "That's not a bad idea, Wormtail," Wormtail grinned happily. Moony continued on thoughtfully, "All we need is an inheritance potion and we can have the boy's entire family tree. Of course, the potion is extremely difficult to put together and we'd need something from the boy the same as Polyjuice requires, but it's possible."

Both black haired boys looked at Moony in shock.

"Remus!" exclaimed Sirius. "You- YOU!- are proposing that we brew an illegal and potentially dangerous potion just so that we can figure out some of the mysteries surrounding Hogwarts newest student?" His eyebrows seem liable to float clean off his head. He then sniffed and feigned wiping a tear from his eye as Remus looked on in exasperation. Sirius turned to the equally surprised James, "Aren't you proud? D'you see how we've influenced him? It seems like just yesterday he was going around being all Prefectish and all and today-" Sirius and James looked at Remus in self-indulgent pride.

Remus rolled his eyes and snapped, "Don't you mean 'corrupt'? And don't forget, just because we know the potion we need, it doesn't mean that any of us have suddenly developed the ability to brew it."

James's eyes suddenly narrowed. "But Lily could brew it."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "And when has she shown the slightest interest in doing you a favor?"

James glared at him. "I overheard her and her friends talking at dinner. They're just as curious as to why he looks so much like me." He turned to Remus. "Look, I know you're pretty good friends with her, why don't you at least see if she's willing to consider it?"

Remus stared at his friend in shock. For the first time since their first year, James wasn't attempting any sort of claim over Lily and wasn't even jumping for joy at the proffered chance to speak to her.

"Mate, dare I say it? You act like you've grown up a bit."

James flushed. "This summer showed me that there are more important things than some bird who isn't even interested." He looked out of the window near his bed before concluding bitterly, "No matter how much you may fancy yourself in love with them."

On that rather somber note, but possessed of a plan, the four shut off the light and attempted to sleep. In the dungeons of Slytherin, two other black haired boys attempted the same.

**Thank you, MaeSilverpaws1, for your review :) it makes me happy, but I do apologize for the long time updating (I've been updating another story, sorry) and for the short chapter. I'm afraid that short chapters are just how it comes out, so, while I will always strive to write longer chapters, it just may not be entirely doable. I promise to try though :) On that note, this is the longest chapter of this story, however unimpressive that is... thank you so much for your support! I hope y'all like the chapter :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter; he'd be so much easier to toy with if I did :D But I don't, so there. :(**

Harry managed to get through the week with only a little bewilderment, although he had admittedly been expecting a more hostile welcome from the Marauders rather than the somewhat chilly and distant one he was given. Deciding to give this little thought at the moment, determined as he was to defeat Voldemort before his loved ones could die again, Harry outwardly focused on his studies and inwardly tackled the problem of Voldemort. The diadem was pretty straight forward, and he supposed the ring possibly was as well, but Harry still found himself wishing he had Ron and Hermione there to help him strategize.

Then, of course, came Defense, Harry's area of expertise. Which, for some reason in this timeline, the Slytherins shared with Gryffindors. Apparently, the idea of these "mortal enemies" sharing a class that required frequent wandwork (offensive _and_ defensive, he might add), was not deemed a foolhardy one. Even in this time of war. Where a good bit of the Dark side was comprised of past Slytherins. Not a bad idea at all. Harry barely managed not to roll his eyes as he entered his third and last such class of the week. Every other Defense session had ended with at least one minor hospitalization and, on one memorable occasion, a brief visit to St. Mungo's for one (un)lucky bastard in Hufflepuff robes that came by only to give a message from the Headmaster to Professor Kilhern. His timing had been rather spectacular considering the veritable barrage of spells that managed to hit him. Still, his unexpected appearance had managed to stop the mini war before it really started. Harry thought cynically to himself that if such results could be managed in a real battle, he'd volunteer the delightful Rita Skeeter for the job. Hell, he even had a plan he was reasonably sure would lure her to the precise spot. Promise of glory and the best story in _Prophet_ history, Harry would just have to make sure her animagus form wasn't viable at the moment of promised impact.

In any case, Harry somehow knew that this particular lesson promised to be spectacular in some form or fashion and was therefore suitably wary. It didn't help that the Marauders had managed to convene with Lily earlier that week and the looks now coming his way seemed to portend a rather drastic omen. Of what, he wasn't sure, but it certainly didn't look as though Lily was hanging with the Marauders out of any sense of friendly camaraderie and Harry didn't trust the intense gazes often flittering his way. Call him paranoid, but Harry was on edge that Friday.

The lesson started amicably enough. Books away, wands out, listen to Kilhern as he round-aboutedly got to his point for the day. That's when it all went haywire and Harry knew he should have used one of his few Weasley Wheezes to get out of class. Because on that day, Kilhern had decided to make them practice the Patronus Charm. This, Harry decided, this was hell.

In any other class, in any other time, Harry would simply have faked the lesson. It'd have been easy, too, the Patronus was a notoriously difficult charm, hardly something a barely grown wizard should be capable of. Unfortunately, however, Kilhern had the rather enviable talent of being able to tell exactly when somebody was bullshitting, and exactly how much. Nevertheless, Harry decided he would try. To bullshit that is.

"Alright everybody, wands out" rustling as his orders were followed, "stance steady, and _expecto patronum_," Kilhern cast and from his wand lumbered a bear. The bear glanced around, found nothing to defend against and snuffled in Kilhern's direction before fading away in a shimmer of light.

"What are you all looking at?" Kilhern yelled. "Dementors would've Kissed your soul away by now. This isn't a lightshow, get casting!"

Looking at each other in vague alarm, the students all started casting. Cries of "Expecto patronum!" rang everywhere, however, little to nothing actually happened.

"Ye've got to think _happy _thoughts," Kilhern roared. "This can't be your average, run-o'-the-mill, see-a-pretty-face-and-_smile_ sort of happy! Ye've got to really _mean_ it! This is you're so happy, you can damn near fly like Peter Pan! And for all you pureblood lot, that damn well means to pick up a book and read on occasion. Doesn't make no never mind if a muggle wrote it or not." He glared at them all. "Well?" He roared. "Why aren't you all happy?" They all hurried again to cast the spell and think happy. Rather surprisingly, a few did manage to produce a few silver vapors, much to the pleasure of the rest of the class as this small success would mean Kilhern would lesson his somewhat intrusive roaring, allowing the rest to concentrate.

Harry, attempting to stay unobtrusively out of Kilhern's notice, failed to realize that he had placed himself in close proximity to the Marauders and their recent companions. He was so intent on faking happiness and casting, that he completely missed the look Sirius gave James, who in turn elbowed Remus, who gave a discreet nod to Lily. Said red head rolled her eyes, before strolling casually to a spot near Harry, all the while giving off an air of preoccupied indifference. Harry still failed to realize that he was the subject of discreet scrutiny, instead focusing on well, not focusing. He was so intent on his plan of action that he even failed to notice Kilhern sneaking up on him.

"I DON'T THINK YOU'RE VERY HAPPY, BOY!" Harry jumped, landing in a crouch with his wand pointed at his professor, before he realized just what had happened and stood sheepishly, dropping his wand to his side. He barely resisted the urge to duck his head and stammer out an apology.

"So, Potter Deux, mind telling me why you're avoiding happy thoughts and faking this lesson? Hmm, boy? Gonna answer me, or do you want to just go ahead and give it real go? Eh? I'M TALKING TO YOU, POTTER, ARE YOU GOING TO SHOW ME THAT YOU'RE LISTENING OR DO I HAVE TO KEEP THE WHOLE CLASS HERE WHILE WE WAIT FOR YOU TO STOP BULLSHITTING AND START WORKING?"

Now avoiding the strong urge to snap back, "Sir, yes, sir!" Harry instead chose to go with plan B (Bullshit No-More) and focused on his happiest memory, more of a feeling than memory really, as he cast the spell for real. Images of his parents and friends, happy and alive, and out bounded Prongs, glowing and silvery solid.

He pretty much expected the gasps of utter surprise and amazement that came from his classmates, as well as the startlingly close ones of the Marauders. As if their unexpected presence so close to him wasn't enough to make his heart skip a beat, seeing Prongs prance proudly to James did have the effect of stopping it momentarily.

Sirius and Peter, the only ones to ever get a clear-minded view of Prongs in all his glory (it's a bit difficult to find somewhere where a stag can change and not get noticed, so Remus had never been in any particular hurry to study James' form when not under the influence of the wolf), were the most astounded. While Peter was obviously amazed, and seemingly a bit terrified, Sirius had less the look of amazement that Harry would have expected, and looked more deep in thought, giving James and Remus a serious, excuse the pun, nod. He turned his brooding stare towards the source, Harry Potter himself.

Kilhern studied the form quietly. Slowly, at the insistent head butting of the stag, James raised a wary hand and placed it on the nose, clearly expecting him to disappear on contact or at least to meet no resistance. Neither of which happened.

Upon the moment of impact, both James and the stag froze, giving off an incandescent light that set the room in shadow for a long moment. Then, just as suddenly as it began, it ended, leaving everyone blinking, and the stag nowhere to be seen.

Kilhern gave an appreciative nod before clapping once, startling everyone out of their daze.

"Alright, everybody," He snapped, "You've seen your classmate manage it, now it's your turn. I expect to see everybody trying, d'you hear me? Even if all you manage is vapor, vapor is the beginning of a form. And a full-fledged form has the ability to protect your soul from Dementors, provide warmth and comfort, and send voice messages to the person of your choosing. So this may be one of the most important spells you practice this year, do you understand? With this war, and with the so-called 'Dark Lord'," Kilhern's voice was brusquely derisive, "on the loose, this particular method of defense is more important than ever." Kilhern glared them all down, taking satisfaction in the way most of them seemed to cower away from him. "Well," he raised his voice expectantly, "what're ye all waiting for then? GET HAPPY AND CAST THA' DAMN SPELL!"

When class finished, there was a flurry of movement as the students rushed out of the classroom. Harry moving quicker than most in an effort to avoid questioning stares and invasive comments, fairly flying from the room and making his way to Transfiguration. Seeing as he had never been particularly outstanding in the class before, Harry had figured he might as well make a better effort at it now, especially considering his somewhat daring plan to defeat Voldemort. Again. He was only a little bitter. Honest.

That being said, he didn't necessarily have to make a great show of being utterly consumed with the lesson as he had been striving to pay avid attention all week. Had McGonagall been her future self, she would have been gratified and amazed. As it was, she simply took it as a matter of course for the son of Lily Evans and James Potter, the one being studious, and the other naturally brilliant in the subject and therefore assumed that Harry had always been this attentive in her class. Harry wasn't in any great hurry to disabuse her of this notion, and so the two got along fairly well. She also was rather pleased to find that he didn't seem to care a great deal about pranks and the sort.

Of course, now that he was actually paying attention in the class and knowing that he couldn't rely on Hermione to explain the more difficult (i.e. _boring_) concepts to him later, Harry found that he had actually developed something of a knack for transfiguring. Before, Harry had approached the subject in much the same manner that he approached Defense and Charms. Which is, to cast the spell in the prescribed manner, and focus upon the meaning of the spell, not necessarily the result. Transfiguration involved much the same principle, with a small added element. Besides casting the spell with intent and focus, one must also have a clear vision of what you are going to end up with. If you wish to turn a rabbit into a hat, you must know what sort of hat you are wanting, the size and shape of it, and color and texture. The fewer details you have in your mind, the less likely you are to come up with what you were going for. The whole process became so simple to Harry that he wondered why no one had explained it to him in this manner before. It made sense that Hermione was so good at it; her eye for detail was simply astounding. And his dad and Sirius? Harry had already figured out that they were the ones that generally came up with their cover stories, read: lies, so obviously, very good imaginations. Harry, finally understanding, found that he enjoyed the class a great deal more now, even though he did have only Snape as company. And given that Snape had been in the Hospital Wing getting an elephant's trunk, courtesy of the Marauders, removed, Harry didn't really look forward to his reaction upon hearing about his patronus. Although now that Harry thought about it, maybe he hadn't imagined that almost smug look on Severus's face as he was led to the Infirmary after all. The sneaky snake; he'd probably remembered what was on the lesson plan for today and let himself be taken out of action. Anything not to have to flaunt his doe around class. Harry could only imagine the rumors that might have caused, especially alongside his stag. He shuddered.

Speak of the devil… with a long-suffering sigh, Snape sat down next to Harry.

"Honestly, Pot- Harry. You're asked to survive by yourself for _one_ class period, and this is the chaos I come back to?" Severus shook his head mock-sadly. "Honestly, is it so very difficult to manage mist instead of a full-fledged form? Now the Minions of Evil are never going to leave us alone. Or should I say, you." With a disdainful sniff, Snape opened his textbook the page written on the board and prepared to take notes, all the while ignoring the glare he was receiving from the technically younger Potter.

"Greasy dungeon bat. Greasy _old_ dungeon bat. Hmph," Harry muttered under his breath, pulling his own textbook open and towards him.

"Impudent brat."

"Snarky snake-bait."

"Oooh, good one. I'm afraid to say that I'm failing to come up with a good one-liner that references Tommy's almost pedophilic obsession with you. Ah, well."

"Oh, you bastard. I'm never going to be able to face him again without vomiting in my mouth now."

"And fearing for your chastity, of course."

"I repeat: you utter bastard."

"Should not have used my death against me. You should have known you would not appreciate the concequences."

"You know, he did seem rather fond of you, too, Sevvy-Sev. All the chances to kill you, just in case you were a spy, offering to spare Mum at your request..."

"I might kill you. I mean, I might _actually_ kill you."

"You know you love to hate me."

"I'm planning your demise as we speak, Potter. Would you like to see the graph?"

"Don't tease me now."

The two spent the rest of the class taking notes and sniping at each other underneath their breath although the insults given were more amusing than rude to tell the truth. It did serve to distract Harry from the animated conversation the Marauders were having with Lily and her friends, despite frequent reminders from McGonagall to "kindly shut up and pay attention!"

By the end of class, Harry had determined not to stress out about his patronus, as the only ones who could guess its significance were few and the rest were simply amazed that he was capable of the spell at all. So it was with a lighter heart that Harry followed Snape to the Room of Requirement after classes end where they were putting themselves through a strict training regimen. For Severus, he was mostly honing his young body in the skills he had acquired in later years, but for Harry, he was leading him through the exercises he should have received before ever going after the darkest wizard to grace their kind in decades. Severus was a bit put out to find that most of Harry's miraculous escapes had been essentially that: miraculous. Sure, Harry was a skilled amateur at dueling, mostly due to his ability to react well in a heated environment, but he'd gotten lucky a number of times and any one of those moments might very well have ended his life otherwise. Snape sometimes paled when he allowed himself to think about it. Severus consoled himself with the fact that the boy was shaping up well now.

While Harry and Snape were putting themselves through their paces, the dastardly schemers were meeting in the boys' dormitory, much to the indignation of the girls.

Lily studied the room with a touch of distaste adorning her features. Her emerald eyes lingered on Peter's bed in particular, where several candy wrappers could be seen on, around, and below. She grimaced at the evidence of crumbs in the messy sheets before turning steadfastly away. She noticed Remus' bed was tidy, much as she had assumed, but, rather surprisingly, so were James' and Sirius'. True, theirs were a touch less neat; a Quidditch magazine thrown haphazardly there, a rumpled shirt sticking slightly out of a drawer, but nowhere was it dirty. Lily was mature enough to admit that she was slightly disappointed not to have more to disapprove of in their corners, and resolved within in herself to try and not be so hasty in her assumptions.

"Alright, alright, alright," she said briskly. "I've got the hair. He didn't seem to notice anything odd when I stumbled near the end of class." She frowned slightly. "He was a bit eager to get away from me, though, so even though he was very kind helping me up, he didn't try to chat or anything."

"So?" James snapped, for all his good intentions not caring for the way she spoke of a guy that, let's face it, _looked exactly like him_.

Lily bristled. "It's nice to find a guy who isn't interested in harassing you every chance they get," she hissed. They glared at each other. Sirius and Remus looked at each other in vague alarm. Alice, Lily's friend, merely rolled her eyes.

"If you two are done making goo-goo eyes at each other," she said sardonically, "I thought we were here for a reason."

Sirius and Remus smirked when this caused both Lily and James to blush, even though Peter looked at Alice as though she had lost her mind.

"Right," Lily said apologetically, pulling something out of her bag. "I put the hair I managed to swipe off of his robe in this envelope. I looked at it in class, and we have two that still have the roots. So if I mess up the first potion, we've at least got a second chance."

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief. "Great," he said happily, only a little forced. "Well, since we're all shite at potions, I guess all you need from us at this stage is galleons and ingredients, right?"

Lily looked at him in astonishment before nodding.

"Alright then," he said merrily, "in that case, if you'll make a list of what you need, we'll see to acquiring it for you, ok? When we've got it, you'll be the first to know." As he said this, he was unsubtly herding the girls to the door, obviously eager to discuss something, minus their presence. With puzzled looks, the girls left, leaving Sirius to shut the door once again and spell it against eavesdropping and interrupting.

"Dude," he said to James, "that was Prongs."

**Dudes! I'm alive! Anyways, sorry for the obscenely long wait :( One benefit of me updating different stories though, was that it helped me write slightly longer chapters, so, yay! :) **

**Alright, ***Random***,** *****MaeSilverpaws1***, ***Sheankelor***,***Cookiefan57***, aannndd, ***Tianna M.V.A***, y'all are awesome and have my true appreciation! Thanks to everyone that reviewed ^ alerted/favorited! Y'all are simply fantastic! **

**Now, given that it has been so long, I do hope that you enjoy this installment and I hope to never have you wait this long again. I've been trying to get in the mode of updating more frequently, and so far it's been working. Now that my sister has decided to read my stories (she got tired of waiting for me to work on my original novels...) she's going to be badgering my into writing even _more *_sweatdrops* Anywho, hope y'all like it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**So, I rather feel that this kinda makes up for the extreme length between updates last time. :) I think I doubled the length of the entire story with this chapter, lol. Proof that reviews make me especially eager to write :) Thanks can be directed towards: MaeSilverpaws1; Sheankelor; . ***2***; Tianna M.V.A; and Babydoll8901. Y'all are extremely awesome people, and I thank you very sincerely for your appreciation of my meager story. To all who alerted and favorited, I thank you as well! You may be silent in regards to words, but I appreciate your attention as well :) I hope that this chapter also manages to entertain you, and, in regards to what happens to Harry towards the beginning of this (you should know when you see it...) well, direct your ire/appreciation towards Sheankelor for the violent attack bunny they sent me :P**

**Anyways, hope y'all enjoy! Oh, and I made up a spell. So sue me.**

**Actually, DISCLAIMER: Don't sue me. I don't own shit. Happy now? :)**

The week that passed was nearly insignificant. While Harry and Severus had noticed strange meetings occurring between the Marauder's and the girls, Harry wrote it off as unimportant. Severus was not so sure, and thus resolved to do a little bit of recon work. He was fairly pleased to note that although James Potter tended to stare at Harry with a deeply brooding stare more often than he had earlier been wont, if his friends' expressions were anything to go by then they were all still confused by the Patronus Incident. Snape mentally cursed Harry for calling it that. Now whenever Severus thought about it, he couldn't resist the urge to capitalize it.

With a sour expression on his face over the foolish notions of former Gryffindors, Snape glided invisibly behind Lily as she made her way unnoticed to a secret room hidden behind a tapestry of a meadow empty of all but a single unicorn. Stroking the unicorn gently, she was allowed entry into the room, followed closely by Snape.

Snape's attention was immediately captured by the potion boiling in the middle of the room. Taking care to stand unobtrusively out of the way, he watched avidly as Lily stirred the potion counter clockwise carefully before adding an ingredient. Snape watched as she gently lowered the heat of the cauldron before stirring it once more with a different rod, this one silver, and saw her look of satisfaction when it turned a deep lavender color. Lily smile brilliantly at the apparent success and, taking out an envelope, she dropped a hair into it. Snape's eyebrow rose alarmingly as he recognized Potter's hair, in this case he was sure, Harry's to be exact.

Grinning, Lily dipped an extremely tiny quill into the mixture, careful to place it in a small box with intricate runes. Satisfied with her doings, Lily left the room, unaware that she had left a small audience behind.

Snape approached the table cautiously. Sniffing the air above the potion cautiously, and eyeing the bits of ingredients that had been left in a neat pile in one corner, Snape groaned.

"Bloody family tree potion," he muttered to himself, thinking darkly that he really should have considered this as soon as the Marauders began spending so much time with Lily.

Suddenly, an idea hit him. It was so devious that the smile it caused to spread across his face was one that would have sent every first to seventh year in the future running in fear.

With a small cackle, Snape went to work, glad that he had come directly from Potions class as it meant that he had his rather extensive kit with him and glad that the potion was a symbiotic one, meaning that the magic of the potion connected the potion in the cauldron with the potion on the hummingbird quill. He quickly went about assuring that everyone involved would get a surprise.

It was fifteen minutes later that he left the room, still invisible, smugly pleased with himself and wondering at the fact that a potion that took days to assemble took mere minutes to derail.

He slipped in beside Harry at the dinner table, a complacent expression on his face. Harry was vaguely disconcerted by the smirk Snape directed his way but shrugged it off, concentrating instead on how he wanted to approach Dumbledore. They needed help. Even if it was just help keeping the ministry off their backs, Dumbledore was the answer.

Harry was turning to Snape, about to ask his opinion, when he felt the most unsettling sensation. With a somewhat sucking sensation, directed inward, Harry's perception of his surroundings blew up rather suddenly.

Snape, who had obviously been waiting for this event, struggled with his laughter. His shoulders shook as he held it in, several snorts of amusement escaping him.

Harry's face showed a look of utter shock as he surveyed his appearance in a startlingly clear bowl which held selections of fruit. Part of his shock was due to the fact that he was inexplicably at eye level with the bowl, and the rest due to what it showed him. He'd shrunk. Rather drastically. His eyes narrowed to slits of emerald ire.

"You!" He growled, his voice dismayingly squeaky. "What did you do?"

Snape smirked again.

"Why, dear little Potter, I sabotaged the potion which would have given the Minions your entire family history, dates included. I simply couldn't resist a little artistic expression, though."

Harry's eyes widened.

"What?" He screamed, scrambling to get down from the now higher bench. "Where are they? Miserable cretins. I won't stand for this." He glared up at Snape, "And you! Prepare for the worst. I will make you pay." He huffed off, flipping off any and all sniggers he heard from the other students, all the while struggling to hold up his robes, which had not made the change with him. Snape hurried after him, unwilling to completely miss this confrontation.

Fifteen minutes earlier.

Lily made her way back up to the tower, buzzing with the excitement that filled her. Finally! They would get some answers, figure out who this stranger was and how he was related to Potter. The other Potter. Eurgh. James. She was even more irked that this stranger was forcing her to reevaluate her nemesis.

Entering the common room, she made her way to the boys' dorm where the others waited for her, having not wanted to intrude on the delicate atmosphere of the potion.

She brought out the small runic box after locking the door behind her.

"That's it?" Sirius said intently.

Lily resisted rolling her eyes impatiently.

"Yes," she said, "and it's time to do the spell." She raised her eyebrow towards the boys. While she had been in charge of creating the potion, they had been charged with finding and memorizing the complex spell that had to activate the runes on the box.

"Right," James said, a bit nervous. "So this is gonna take just a little bit, it's a pretty long spell. More of a chant really."

"Whatever," Alice broke in eagerly, "just do it. The sooner you start, the sooner it's done."

The spell that followed involved Sirius and James placing the box in the middle of the floor where they had drawn a strange design that proved to be the same runic message placed on the box. The design led outward to an encompassing circle which the made sure not to smudge or step over, merely placing the box carefully in its place.

That done, they began the chanting spell that was strangely indecipherable to their audience and which took several minutes to complete. Following the end of the spell, Remus drew out a piece of parchment that had runes running along its side. Seemingly assured by the glow uniting the runes on the floor, box, and parchment, he opened the box carefully and spoke a single word.

What they had been expecting was for the hummingbird quill to rise and write the family history of the new Potter boy. That's not what happened though. Instead, there was a burst of light and the runes blackened and the quill turned to ash.

They all stared at the mess in the center of the floor.

"That," Peter said timidly, "wasn't supposed to happen was it?"

Sirius growled. "Of course not," he snarled. He turned on Lily. "What the hell?"

Her brow was furrowed in thought, but as the accusation registered, she turned towards him, indignant.

"It's not automatically her fault if it didn't work, Padfoot," James said quietly. Both turned towards him in astonishment. He lifted his eyes to look at them both. "She's the only one out of us with a hope of making the potion work, and neither of us have ever done this level of spellwork before. It's just as likely that we messed up." He studied the mess before them.

Lily was strangely disturbed by his new maturity and the fact that he stood up for her against his best mate. Lily was displeased to find herself once again making changes to her perception of her fellow Gryffindor. Anymore conversation or thoughts on the matter were halted, though, by the sudden entrance of what appeared to be an angry, midgetized Harry Potter, and an overly amused Severus Snape. Both of who really shouldn't have been there, considering it was in Gryffindor tower and they were both Slytherins.

Midget Harry took in the mess on the floor. He crossed his short arms over his chest, green eyes sparkling dangerously.

"Somebody like to explain what's going on here?" He asked icily.

Nobody was laughing- except for Snape-; seemingly, the Marauders couldn't get over having two Slytherins in their room, and Alice was simply horrified that they'd been caught.

"Oh," Lily said weakly, looking down at her classmate. He hadn't been particularly tall before, but, damn, those couple of feet really did mean something. She found him glowering at her even more now, and she registered the others barely containing their laughter- Severus had no such compunction. She realized that she had spoken her thoughts out loud. Her eyes widened in horror, even as she finally put all the pieces together and whirled on Severus.

"You!" She felt strangely betrayed. "How did you- I mean, the potion-" She nearly stamped her foot in frustration, unwilling to speak aloud the words that would further implicate them all in something illegal.

Severus raised his left eyebrow smoothly, an expression he had utilized often in the future (past?) and had in the recent two years taught his teenage face, too.

"Why Lily," he said silkily, every bit the snarky professor terrorizing small children that he once had been, "I happened across a secret room, just minutes ago, and I noticed the potion set brewing was a highly illegal one." He continued, pasting an angelic look on his face that fooled exactly no one. "I had no idea whose it was, or who it was intended for, but I thought I would do them a favor and negate it before they got themselves into trouble." He smirked. "Of course, I couldn't resist a little artistic expression, and I was simply amazed to find my friend miniaturized."

"But- you-" Lily wasn't quite sure what to say. Her racing mind was conjuring up horrible images of expulsion. She suddenly felt quite sick.

"What made you think to come here?" Remus asked calmly, hoping that they could get out of this intact.

"Well," Snape drawled, "the only person besides myself with the initial skill to brew the potion, aside from a teacher, is Lily. Since teachers would surely brew illegally elsewhere, and coupled with the fact that you lot have been spending a lot of time together staring at my _little_ friend here," Harry glared at him at the emphasis, "I naturally put two and two together and told the midget here."

"So all you have is conjecture?" Remus returned smoothly.

"Well, no," Snape said, smiling slightly, "the mess we walked in on is fairly incriminating as well."

Remus blanched at the reminder.

"So what are you going to do, Snape?" James asked carefully.

Severus raised one eyebrow.

"I rather think that that is something you should be asking Harry, Potter." He replied smoothly.

As one, they all looked at Harry.

He narrowed his eyes at them, taking cruel satisfaction from the flinches he received.

"I won't tell Dumbledore," they sighed in relief before he continued, "Unless you try it again. In the meantime, I expect to find two full cases of unopened, untampered with butterbeer in the room Severus mentioned. Obviously you know where it is." He glowered at them before continuing. "You will also leave a basket of Honeydukes' finest. I'm fond of chocolate." He added as an afterthought. "Oh, and no more pranks, malicious or otherwise, on either Severus or I, unless I ever tell you otherwise."

Sirius unknowingly mimicked Snape as he raised his own eyebrow.

"Is that all?" He asked sardonically, quite forgetting the severity of the moment.

Harry looked at him.

"Or I could always go to the authorities," he said coolly. "Whichever you prefer, of course."

Remus glared pointedly at Sirius, who flushed.

"No," he said hurriedly, casually punching Sirius in the side, "we find your offer to be more than generous and we will let you know when we have managed to acquire the items you require."

Harry smiled brilliantly.

"Thank you!" He chirped, before pulling a quietly amused Severus Snape away. "We'll leave you to your other dastardly deeds then, shall we?"

"Butterbeer, Potter?" They heard Snape questioning him as they left, their voice drifting up the stairwell for quite a ways.

"I'm not fond of firewhiskey," came the reply. "And you sure as hell better have the antidote for this, you bastard. You seem to have forgotten- for once- just who my father and godfather were. I'm sure I can remind you."

"I thought you declared me 'persona-non-grata' as far as pranks are concerned?"

"Not from this Potter, I didn't. I feel like channeling my father."

"At any other point in time, I would ask you where you were holding that particular séance, but, well…"

"You're a jackass. I hope you know."

"Oh, believe me. I know."

"Dungeon bat."

"Marauder brat."

"Why should I take that as an insult?"

"Fine. Pedobait."

"You just made that up."

"You understood it didn't you?"

"Y'know what? Fuck you."

"I really don't think that's the way that particular scenario would go if it went at all…"

"…"

"You're right. Please forget that. Obviously, being a teenager has affected me far more than it should."

"I am so unnerved right now."

"So am I. Still, I have a point."

"Like _hell_."

"You kinda look like a twink."

"You-"

"And you're really small."

"That's YOUR fault!"

"I meant before that."

"I think I know what my revenge will be now."

"… I apologize?"

Harry's voice was dark as he answered, "No apology can help you now."

Alice slowly shut the door as the voices finally drifted out of reach. She blinked a bit and rubbed her forehead with one hand.

"That-" Words failed her.

"Was almost hilarious, and definitely disturbing?" Sirius finished for her. "Yeah." His and James' faces were a complex mixture of hilarity and horror. Pettigrew only looked confused, and Lily seemed to be struggling with laughter.

Remus was the only that seemed to have noticed a few things about the overheard conversation that led him to think something so bewildering, that he could barely comprehend even the idea of it.

In an attempt to pacify the scheming Potter, Snape brewed the antidote to his rather specialized shrinking solution, and restored the pissed off Potter to his somewhat negotiable height. He was disappointed to see a smirk appear on Harry's face when he asked if this let him off the hook. Apparently not.

The packages Harry had requested made their way into the Unicorn room a mere week later. In a show of good will, Harry offered to share his bounty with Severus, but Severus, convinced that this was a trap of some kind, refused, eyeing the chocolate and pilfered alcohol with narrowed eyes.

"You're too damn paranoid, Sev," Harry was saying, just a week later. "I offered you the same stuff I was eating and drinking, why the hell would you think I'd messed with it?"

Severus thought about this for a moment. "Don't call me Sev," he said absently, turning the problem around to view it from all possible angles. Perhaps Harry had a point. It's not like Harry was that skilled magically, anyways, except in matters of defense. Still, there was the principle of the thing. He nodded, satisfied with his decision. He ignored the ever so tempting sight of luxurious chocolate and smooth butterbeer, and sneered at the green-eyed Potter.

"In any case, what makes you think that I would deign to consume such childish items as those?"

Harry raised an eyebrow calmly, reaching under his bed for another butterbeer, feeling around until he managed to grasp one by the neck.

"Right," he said derisively, popping the top of his bottle and taking a swig. "I'll remind you of that the next time we have Hogsmeade weekend."

Severus scowled. Damn brat.

"Oh, whatever," he snarled, "are we going to dinner or not?"

Harry sighed. Placing a stasis charm on his opened bottle, he set it aside and got up.

"Alright," he said, "let's eat!" With that he rushed past Severus, challenging him to a race.

Grimacing, Severus attempted to maintain his dignity, but soon his teenage self caught up with him and he was racing Harry in an attempt to make it to the Great Hall first. This garnered quite a few strange looks, many not used to such unbridled playful energy coming from two Slytherins of all people, but Severus was very smug by the time they reached their stopping point.

"I win," he stated.

Harry glared at him before smirking. Marching up to the doors and pulling them open, he stepped inside and turned to look at Severus.

"Actually," he drawled, enjoying the suspicion dawning on Snape's face, "I believe that it's the first one through the door that wins." He grinned broadly. "Therefore, I win."

Severus growled and shoved past him, leading the way to Slytherin's table. Sitting down, a thought occurred to him, and it was his turn to smirk.

"Or," he said smugly, "you could say that the first to make it to the table is the victor."

"No," Harry denied vehemently, "We were racing to the doors, therefore, first one through, wins. Simple as that."

"Oh, I don't know," Severus mused, "after all, isn't our ultimate goal to get to the table?"

Harry glowered. "Enough," he said finally, "we're never going to get anywhere like this. How about we call this one a draw and set up the rules for next time?"

Severus shrugged. "Alright," he agreed, "then I suggest the most sensible idea would be to have the end be at the doors, not through them. Too many things could go wrong otherwise, and this way, we look less foolish to others."

Harry couldn't find any fault in that argument, so he agreed.

"So that means that I won after all, doesn't it?" Snape said, smiling down at his plate, "Technically speaking anyways."

Harry groaned and slumped forward on the table, berating himself for falling for such a Slytherin trick.

Across the hall, several eyes watched them warily.

"Do you think he has any idea?" James asked worriedly.

"Relax, mate," Sirius said distantly, contemplating their dinner choices for the evening. "If he hasn't said anything by now, then I sincerely doubt he knows."

Lily hesitated slightly. "I don't know," she said softly, glancing at the near clone of her nemesis. "He doesn't seem like a bad guy, and I really don't want to get expelled."

They turned to Remus, expecting the most reasoned judgment to come from him. They were somewhat surprised to find him staring at Potter and Snape with hard determination.

"We have to do it," he said firmly, "there's something weird going on, and I think that this potion will give us the answer. Also, our precautions are much greater this time. We shan't be found out."

Still a bit uneasy, the group returned to safer topics, and ate their dinner.

In another time, another group of students huddled similarly in almost the same exact place. Members of the DA were trying to brainstorm where Harry could be, coming up with literally nothing, and frustrating them all. It was in this frustration that Ron and Hermione stood, disregarding the comments of their peers, and left the Great Hall, making for the familiar path to Hagrid's Hut.

"Do you think we'll ever find him?" Hermione asked Ron, her voice wavering only slightly.

Ron reached out and grasped her hand in his as they walked.

"Don't think like that, 'Mione," he said fiercely, staring hard at nothing in particular. "This is Harry we're talking about. Shit happens to him, and he always makes it through to the other side, y'know that."

She laughed weakly, pulling closer to him and wrapping herself around his arm.

"Yeah, he always makes it out," Ron could hear the thickness of unshed tears in her voice. "It's just-" she paused and swallowed hard before continuing, "it's just that he deserves to have a bit of happiness now. I mean, he's always deserved it, but we thought that he could finally have it, and now-" she trailed off helplessly, spreading her arms wide in a gesture of hopelessness.

Ron stopped walking and pulled her to him, tucking her mass of tamed brown hair just under his chin.

"Shhh, shhh," he soothed her softly, "it's just like old times, ok? We're gonna find him, and help him, and he's going to be alright. How can we not," he said quietly, "you're too brilliant not to figure this out-" He broke off at the sound of a strangely familiar noise.

Hermione stiffened slightly in his arms before pulling away, shielding her eyes against the sun as she searched for the direction of the sound. She gasped, feeling Ron's arms slacken in shock as he, too, discovered the source of the sound.

Unnervingly close now, a dragon that looked far too familiar was making its way directly toward them. Flickering desperately through Hermione's head were all the ways they could take on a dragon and survive, but she was coming up blank due to the fact that she could not make out its eyes due to the sunlight, and there were no spells that two wizards alone could attempt that would subdue a dragon. Taking Ron's hand in hers again, she pulled him along, halting his desperate attempt to shoot a spell, and they ran, faster than they ever had before, towards the Great Lake. She was working on casting bubble-head charms on them, thinking that they could sink into the lake and wait the dragon out. She could only hope that no one got hurt and that they noticed the dragon raging on the grounds of Hogwarts.

Aside from this all, she was also wondering how the dragon had gotten there in the first place. She knew that dangerous creatures lived in the forest, but generally, the strength of Hogwarts' wards were such that they stayed in their natural habitat instead of venturing out of the forest. It took something major disrupting the wards, or an actual invitation from someone dwelling in Hogwarts. Of course, during the final battle, both had happened. Students siding with Voldemort had afforded him just enough allegiance that, paired with the combined hostile magic of the attacking force, he was able to enter and bring along his hordes of violent allies. Not that the acromantulas had been so much allies as eager opportunists. Ron had been especially pleased with the complete eradication of the giant spider colony, and a rather chagrined Hagrid had vowed never to breed them again. Apparently, all it took to shake Hagrid from a particular creature fascination was to have said creature side with a Dark Lord and attack Hogwarts grounds. As Ron had said when Harry first mentioned this, it wasn't a plan that he cared to initiate more than once.

From the look of things, dragons might very well soon be on the newly made list of disfavor for Hagrid. Ron only regretted that it would take his and Hermione's deaths to instigate this.

With a sudden burst of inspiration, spurred by the fact that he could feel the dragon quickly gaining on them, Ron used a spell that he had read just that past week, as they were all desperately scouring the library for help to find Harry. This particular spell was one he had encountered in a Restricted book, and it came to his mind clear as day as he slashed his wand in the movement he remembered seeing on the page and shouted the incantation, hoping against hope that he was remembering the instructions on its pronunciation.

"Diamas contego!" He cast the spell in the direction of Hermione, feeling the breath of death wash hot and moist down his back. Hermione's form locked up and crystallized, falling to the ground. Her frozen eyes were wide in alarm as she looked up at him in despair. He smiled slightly, pain in his eyes but calm acceptance in his heart at his impending death. She looked just as the description had said she should, and he thought that she was beautiful. It was a spell that had to be cast by another, and it locked the recipient safely in an impenetrable shield of diamond, keeping them alive until they could be freed by someone else. Ron didn't know it, but it was actually the spell that had been used in the muggle fairy tale "Snow White", which wasn't a fairy tale at all, but based on an actual historical event.

No, Ron didn't know any of this at that moment, but he did know that he would do anything in his power to keep Hermione safe. So it was, that as he felt the powerful wind of the dragon's beating wings, he leaned down and softly closed Hermione's eyes, unwilling that she should witness his death, and whispered in her ear that he loved her and always would.

In the moment that the dragon reached them, Ron thought back on his life and hoped that his family would not allow his death to completely destroy them, especially so soon after the loss of Fred.

But instead of sharp teeth and rending claws, without even a hint of fiery breath, Ron and Hermione were gathered carefully close by the enormous beast and carried into the air. Faster than they could comprehend, time and space twisted around them in a horrifyingly intensified version of a portkey. Unbeknownst to Ron, the nauseating spinning of their surroundings was reminiscent of a time turner, and so, when the spinning (of their surroundings and, in the opposite direction, of them) ended, they landed paradoxically calmly in what appeared to be the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The dragon released them, setting them down between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. How the dragon hadn't squashed anyone, especially considering that the space between the tables was hardly fit to house a dragon, Ron failed to understand. **(Magic, 'tis a grand thing, no?)** What he did know was that nobody was looking familiar, except for some students and a certain Headmaster that really shouldn't.

Realizing that the screams weren't entirely those of fear, Ron reacted on instinct, erecting a large barrier between them and the oncoming spells. The dragon snorted slightly in disdain, as it raised its mighty wings, the ensuing wind flattening and disarming many. It lowered its wings calmly, and settled down like a cat, folding the wings along its back and cradling its snout in its front paws, surveying its surroundings with an oddly knowing gleam.

He suddenly recognized his best mate, Harry Potter, standing where the Slytherin table had been just moments ago, looking shocked. Ron realized that all of the tables had disappeared, and, apparently, more than half the student body, having fled as soon as the wind abated. The rest stood closer than he really thought wise, all things considered, and had managed to find their wands.

"Harry bleeding Potter!" He shouted hoarsely, stumbling slightly as he waved his wand in Hermione's direction, ending the spell. She immediately groaned, curling in on herself as she attempted to reorient herself. She wasn't in quite as bad shape as Ron, his spell having protected her somewhat and thanks to him closing her eyes. She had yet to understand what was going on, but Ron surprisingly had a good grip on their circumstances.

Stumbling again, and managing to casually grasp a squeaking Pettigrew by the shoulders, Ron allowed himself a heartening retch across the poor bloke's front and shoes. Having seen all of the strangely familiar faces, and connecting it to the fact that Harry had disappeared suddenly and within Hogwarts' wards, prompted Ron to go with the first answer that presented itself to his shaken mind. Being a pureblood wizard, too, helped him accept the seemingly impossible.

It was quite obvious to Ron that Harry, and now, subsequently, them, had been transported far into the past, to a time when the Marauder's still reigned in Hogwarts' halls.

Ron supposed he should just be thankful to be alive at this point.

At Ron's shout, Hermione had straightened quickly, gasping as she took in everything that Ron already had. Her intrinsic doubts were dispelled at the sight of their previously missing friend.

"Harry!" She screamed, half laughing, half crying. She struggled to her feet and threw herself at their raven haired friend. She hugged him close, sobbing into his shirt, completely disregarding recent happenings, simply glad to have her friend back, safe and sound. They were fast joined by Ron, all three of them hugging each other desperately.

"As truly touching as this is," they heard a sudden drawling voice interrupt, "perhaps you'd like to explain your sudden appearances." The dismayingly familiar voice paused before continuing. "The dragon, too, if you wouldn't mind."

Hermione and Ron pulled back slowly, completely missing Harry's sudden grin, and stared at their former Potion's professor.

"Severus Snape," he said smoothly, "and you would be Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, I presume?"

They stared at him in slight horror as he raised an eyebrow in question.

"How'd you-" Ron began.

"Harry's talked quite a lot about the two of you," Snape replied. "Why, it's almost as though I _know_ you."

Neither of the new time-travelers missed the not so subtle emphasis, and Ron gulped slightly.

Hermione laughed weakly, one hand traveling to her temple as she massaged it gently.

"Of course," she said, her tone dangerously close to hysterical. "Who else has he spoken to of us?" She asked, hoping that the question wasn't too subtle for her to get the answers she wanted.

Snape looked at her in grudging approval before answering her.

"I believe Harry has made some mention of the two of you to the Headmaster, and Professors McGonagall and Flitwick." As he spoke, he gestured to the three in question.

The Headmaster was carefully unpeeling a lemon drop when McGonagall unceremoniously elbowed him.

"What? Oh," he gazed down at the scene, his serious expression at severe odds with the twinkle in his eyes. "Yes," he said calmly, "Harry has indeed informed us on the circumstances of your friendship." He turned his gaze to the patiently waiting dragon. "He failed to mention the dragon though." He popped the sour sweet into his mouth as he thought this over.

"Actually," Harry said cryptically, critically eyeing the aforementioned dragon, "I believe I did mention the dragon once in passing." He shared a look with his two friends. "The three of us had a bit of an unexpected ride on its back once, I think."

A look of understanding crossed Ron and Hermione's faces, even as they glanced once more at the strangely quiet beast.

Said beast sniffed suddenly, causing all of the confused Hogwarts students and professors to rear back and raise their wands.

_They _do_ realize that their magic isn't going to affect me, right?_ The trio jerked in shock as they heard the sibilant growling as words delivered in a wryly amused tone.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry muttered to himself.

"Dragons don't speak, dragons do not speak."

_I'm speaking aren't I?_ The dragon lowered her head, (for there was no denying the possibly imagined voice was female) and looked him in the eye. Or, rather, she put her eye on level with Harry's entire head. Same difference.

"Seems I'm having the same delusion, mate," Ron said, looking ill. At his green look, Pettigrew slipped farther behind the others, not wanting to be decorated even more than he already was. The others barely noticed, their attention focused solely on the interaction in the center of the Hall.

Pandemonium suddenly erupted as their audience took this in.

"What the hell?"

"Dragons don't speak!"

"They also don't appear out of bloody nowhere!"

"Headmaster! Headmaster! What's going on?"

Shouts were coming from all sides, their questions directed mainly towards the Headmaster.

"Enough!" He ordered, raising his arms in a gesture for their obedience.

Grumbling slightly, and still regarding the group in the middle warily, they listened.

"It appears that our guests can understand the dragon. As astonishing as this is, I believe the best way to gain a correct understanding is to ask." He addressed the trio directly. "You hear the dragon speak?"

Hermione nodded, her mind already racing to find a reason.

At her nod, Dumbledore nodded as well, turning his gaze instead to the dragon.

"If you please, prove that you understand my words and wink your right eye for me."

Immediately, the dragon lowered her right eyelid, eliciting gasps from the still unbelieving watchers.

Before chaos could ensue once more, Dumbledore spoke.

"If you please, would you tell these three why, and what your intentions are? I'm just guessing of course, but I rather suspect that you mean us no harm. Otherwise you would have wreaked havoc upon us already."

Nodding sagely, the dragon began to speak in its vaguely terrifying manner. Of course, for the three suddenly gifted with the ability to understand, it wasn't terrifying so much as confusing. The dragon's words soon reassured them.

_If you recall, you escaped on my back from the Goblin prison, Gringotts._ The trio didn't dare correct the dragon's wording. From its perspective, Gringotts surely was a prison. Instead they nodded, deeming this a safe action. The dragon appeared satisfied with their reaction and continued.

_It is a peculiar trait of my particular breed of dragon, to be what you would call "sentient". The dragons that you would normally come in contact with are barely more than beasts, as related to me as the common reptile you would find in your backyard. Now, some centuries ago, as a young and rather foolish creature, I entered into a binding contract with the goblins, guarding their treasure in return for refuge in their lands. As wise as my kind are, I failed to maintain a strict wording in the binding, and was henceforth trapped to do the goblins bidding. So long as I lived, the contract was satisfied. I have lost contact with my kind, and I am not aware if they even survive to this day. It is entirely possible that I am the last of my kind. As you freed me, releasing me from my bonds, I have granted you the boon of Dracasian speech. Freeing me has transferred my bond to the three of you instead, if you accept._

Hermione was immediately indignant.

"Of course we can't bind you to us! That would be slavery," she whirled on the boys, about to warn them not to even think about it, but the dragon was speaking again.

_Should you deny our bond, then I will be forced to seek the goblins out again, and submit myself once more to their cruelties. _She gazed sadly at them. _Should that happen, I do not know if I could survive, having tasted of freedom again. _Hermione's eyes darkened and she apologized softly.

"What makes you so sure that we wouldn't mistreat you, too," Ron asked curiously. "Not that we would," he hastened to add, "but if I were you, I'd sure as hell be worried."

The dragon laughed softly, a bitter humor evident in the sound.

_I have observed you three since you first dived from my back into the water. My kind is good at judging others, and it was only my own youthful arrogance that led to my captivity. I have seen the good in you, and I would happily take my chances with you three._

Speaking slowly, aware that Dumbledore and the others waited for a translation, Harry provided one.

"Sir, she's not a dragon as we know them. She's been trapped in a bad contract for ages, but we managed to free her somehow," Harry was editing as he spoke, aware that certain details would raise more questions than they were comfortable answering. Besides, the professors and Snape would understand the reference, and they were the ones that mattered. "She says that since we freed her, she has gifted us with the speech of her kind, and, if we agree, we can replace her bond and save her from having to return to her captors." Harry looked at the dragon with compassion. He placed his left hand on her snout.

"I accept," he said gently. "To protect and be protected, I name you my friend and ally. Let magic acknowledge this bond." He didn't really know where the words were coming from, only aware that it seemed the right thing to say. He missed the widening of the dragon's eyes as he looked instead to where Ron and Hermione both raised their own left hands and placed them similarly on the dragon, repeating the words he had spoken. The moment their voices ended, a burst of burning magic pulsed through them, filling them with a sense of power and safety. With a mighty roar, the dragon was also consumed.

When the moment ended, the dragon was bright gold, with red and purple designs lacing down her back and throughout her wings, and her eyes were an emerald green matching two others present in the Hall.

Wincing slightly from a brief tinge of pain in his left arm, Harry glanced down at it absently, only to look at it in shock once more. There on his previously unadorned wrist, were emerald green flames, a moving tattoo licking its way past his elbow, and, he discovered with just a bit of investigation, to his shoulder.

Slight gasps to his right indicated that his friends had found complementary designs of their own. Looking over, he found that he was right, and Ron was sporting red flames to match his, and Hermione purple ones.

The dragon purred contentedly.

_I thank you, my dear ones_ she said musically_ the speech of my kind will grant you the ability to control lesser reptilian creatures, converse with them, as much as they are capable, and, with our bonding, you have the ability to channel your power through that hand. Because this was a meeting of allies, instead of the trickery employed by the goblins, we have exchanged some abilities. I will be able to boost your natural powers, and I shall be capable of some things not previously in my capabilities as well._

**So, that's it. Fun, huh? I hope you enjoyed. As ever, I was going to speak on certain things here, but, like always, I've forgotten. So, if there's anything that confuses you, feel free to ask :) I don't mind answering :) Well, I'm finally off to bed, it's 4 in the morning where I am, and that's late even for me. Don't y'all love my dedication ;) Ciao!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, you would have read this already. And it'd be finished. Since this isn't the case... you get the picture.**

"How could this happen? I mean, really, when did this sort of thing become a natural occurrence? There used to be rules- laws!- to magic, and now, strangers from the future and dragons- Dragons of all things!- have just taken to popping willy-nilly past centuries old wards! What should I expect next, the King of the Leprechauns himself, come to whisk me away?" McGonagall's nostrils flared as she took in the four teenagers standing on the opposite side of Dumbledore's desk.

As Harry blanched and Snape smirked at him slightly, the Headmaster attempted to soothe the harried Gryffindor witch, saying, "Calm yourself, my dear Professor, I highly doubt another such extraordinary event will happen." He paused, hand outstretched towards his candy dish as he considered. "Though, of course, as we know not what precipitated any of these events, I suppose it would not be entirely honest of me to assure everyone otherwise." He popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "Alas, that is the nature of life, and even magic, I suppose. One never knows with any great degree of certainty what will happen today, tomorrow, or even yesterday." As he smiled serenely, Ron nudged Hermione slightly.

"What exactly is in those muggle candies?" He whispered fiercely. She smacked him lightly and shook her head.

"Not the time," she hissed.

Ron scowled, but turned his attention back to the Professors. The Headmaster and Gryffindor Head of House had dismissed the rest of the school to their respective quarters, bringing the three time travelers and Snape to the Headmaster's Office for a good old-fashioned talk in private. He snorted, taking in all of the portraits doing their best not to appear as obviously interested as they were. Yeah, very private. He shook his head.

"So where do you fit into all of this, Mr. Snape?" The Scottish witch's voice was terse, obviously irritated by her employer's blasé nature. Her gaze was sharper than a hawk's as she pinned the de-aged form of Severus Snape with an intense glare.

Unfortunately she did not as yet know that he had had years to inure himself to her. But she was about to.

Snape smirked slightly before stepping forward, robes swirling as in days not yet gone by.

"Minerva," his voice was silky smooth as he ignored her gasp of indignation. "I have to admit, when this green eyed devil popped into place here and proceeded to join Slytherin, I was positively enraged. A Potter, this particular Potter, throwing to the wayside all of my hard work. I've spent the last two years, a grown man in a child's body, working tirelessly to ensure that all remains as it once was. And for good reason, I believed. As hellish as my life may have been, what with dealing with incompetent idiots in the dungeons and keeping this fool child alive," he gestured at Harry, who snorted, "I at least died reasonably assured in the assumption that the end result was a far more tolerable conclusion than might otherwise occur, should I change the course of history." He paced slightly, even as McGonagall moved slowly into a chair conveniently placed behind her, jaw dropped in slowly dawning realization. "Of course, the loss, I've been informed, was almost unimaginable, much as I rather expected, but at least it was not that which we have worked so hard against. Voldemort lost! Struck dead by his own puffed up self-importance. But then, Harry here arrived, and cast all of my efforts out the window, showing me another way. Maybe things won't turn out better, after all. But maybe it doesn't really hurt to try." He paused in front of his seat again and looked at Harry, a disgruntled look upon his face. "Remind me to be kinder to the Longbottom boy this time around, provided I'm given the chance. I owe him something of a debt, taking care of that wretched beast responsible for my demise." His eyes glittered darkly for a moment and when he spoke, there was a nasty sort of glee in his voice, "Of course, I plan to deal preemptively with the beast this time." His fingers flexed momentarily as if they were eager to begin as soon as possible. He stilled and smiled suddenly at the shocked Professors. "I must admit, I quite look forward to seeing all of those House and Quidditch trophies make their way to my office again."

It took a few hours after that, hours spent in tedious questions and relentless theorizing. Professor McGonagall was having more difficulty wrapping her mind around a teenage Severus Snape who remembered years of being her colleague, than she was with any of the other issues. The Headmaster was mostly amused by the whole thing, years having seemed to drop from him after this most tangible proof of a mostly positive victory. Indeed, after the stress of the previous years, dealing with time-travelers who had information on how best to defeat his enemy, why, this was almost as good as a vacation. Hermione was just confused. Ron was hungry.

"Well," Professor Dumbledore said finally, interrupting McGonagall and Hermione as they debated the possible ramifications to continuing as Harry had suggested, and the wary conversational two-step Ron was engaging in with Severus, watched by an increasingly amused Harry. "It seems the only thing to do now, is to have you two sorted."

Ron was eying the Hat distrustfully.

"No offense," he said, tone implying the exact opposite, "but Harry was a Gryffindor with us, back in our time. I don't much fancy prancing around in green." He tugged on a lock of fiery red hair. "Doesn't really match, y'know?"

Hermione had a calculating look on her face.

"I don't know," she said slowly, before looking at him. "It would be rather interesting to attend Hogwarts under a different perspective-"

"We're twenty years in the past!" Ron burst out, staring at her incredulously. "How much more bloody perspective do you need?"

Hermione scowled at him.

"It's never a bad idea to take advantage of impossible situations." She stated primly. "And besides, Harry was sorted in front of everyone. It would seem odd if we didn't do the same." She sniffed and turned away.

It was Ron's turn to scowl, mostly because he knew he'd been beaten.

"Well," he brightened, "Weasley's have been Gryffindors for generations now. A little time travel won't change that, eh?" He grinned, nudging Harry in the ribs good-naturedly.

Breakfast, the next day:

_What's this? Another one, not content with having been sorted once, eh?_ Ron frowned. What? That's not why he was here. _No, no, of course not, _the Hat continued, ignoring his current visitor in light of his recent irritation. _I suppose you're going to be like your little friend just now and try to convince me I don't know the best place for you. _Ron blinked once in dawning horror. He'd wondered why Hermione'd spent so long under the Hat, only to end up in Gryffindor all over again. Come to think of it, she hadn't looked best pleased either. Visions of green snakes danced bleakly in his head. He felt faintly nauseous. At least he'd be with Harry, he supposed. _Oh, no you don't! I didn't give in to her, I didn't, I'm not going to do so for you. Slytherin, eh? _Ron thought that perhaps this would end all right. _Want to stick by your buddy? What admirable loyalty. _The Hat cackled silently, mulling over its options. Ron felt a sense of foreboding. _Well, in that case, the only place for you is _**HUFFLEPUFF!**

Ron fainted.

**I am such an awful person, I know. :( If you go to my profile, you'll have a bit of an idea why, but I'm not here to make excuses. I just wanted to get a little bit of something up before y'all give up on me entirely. And I realise this is horribly short and unfulfilling, but I needed it as a bit of a natural segue into the rest of the fic. Truthfully, I was rather lost on how to continue, and then my Sister began harassing me and playing on my already huge amount of guilt so I made her talk to me until I found my way again. Of course, it took me a bit to find my voice again, so I have quite a bit scrapped because it simply didn't fit the feel of this particular fic, but by writing through it anyways, I managed to get where I wanted to be. I hope, and I say this lightly, to have a longer, more eventful chapter up within the week. **

**I want to say a very enthusiastic and sincere thank you to everybody who has alerted/favorited/reviewed! Y'all are the reason I feel guilty all the time! And please don't feel bad, that's a good thing :) Otherwise, I might be lazier... *shame* So, a specific call out to the awesomeness that is these people:**

***Harry. Potter. Is. BOSS.* **Sheankelor * **andru71 * **TiannaMVA * **bookaddict19 * **sassybratx96 * aannnd **GinHanelle**!

**Also, I am apparently horrible about responding personally to reviews, but I'd like to be better about it. If you want more than just a thank-you here, let me know :) Also, I don't have any particular aversion to PMing, so feel free. If I somehow don't get back to you, don't feel bad, it's never my intention to offend anyone. :D Love y'all! I'm gonna go back to writing now! ;)**


End file.
